Charting life's circuitous path

A Box Full of Christmas


We have a bookshelf.  Still.  A good friend of mine wants to replace her bookshelves with ebooks, and I can see her point.  Books are big, they take up space, some have horrid spines with tatty edges.  Perhaps she dreams of filling that space of old paper and dried glue with something more . . . well, more.

We don’t buy a lot of books anymore.  I borrow from the library like an addict seeking their next big hit.  Buying a book feels more like an investment – will its physical presence pay off in the end?

And then there are books you want to buy for everyone you know and that guy down the street because, obviously, their bookshelf is deficient and paltry without it.

The Fault in Our StarsOur book club’s first selection was John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars.  It’s epic while being so very simple.  It’s a tearjerker, a laugh-maker, a thought-creator all in one.  It’s about love and death and disease, but even more so it’s about life.  You’re forced to look at how you treat life and the lives of those you know and don’t.  It explodes the question on how we deal with death while we’re alive and if our lives are filled with a life worth its deserved weight.

It’s all kinds of wonderful and I was ecstatic that it was our first choice.

However, no matter how many ideas, thoughts and cookies I brought to the table, I can’t share it adequately when no one shows up.

sugar cookies

One person did come, and I tried not to reveal my true fanaticism about this book or else scare her away, but in the end I was still left with an abundance of thoughts and cookies. (Is a club still a club when there are just two?)


I made sugar cookies and snickerdoodles because not only do they make the holiday that much more sparkly, but they’re my grandmother’s favorite cookies.  She would always have a pile of them at her house on Christmas and we would be allowed to eat as many as our sugar-blitzed stomachs wanted.

She’s in her 80s now and hasn’t cooked or baked for a few years since my grandfather died.  We aren’t quite sure why she stopped cooking, but it was one of the first things that would become a part of the list of symptoms we would later see.  Holidays are still full of home-cooked meals and desserts, but they’re brought in by the rest of the family.

Her cookie recipes weren’t exactly special.  She wasn’t adventurous, either, with her cooking and preferred to do things exactly by the book.  But while her cookies wouldn’t win a blue ribbon, they won a place in my memories forever.  They’re what make me feel like Christmas is here, that the world is that much cozier and that for one sugary, spiced second, it’s all okay.  They remind me of warm houses, tall trees, bustling noise and bossy relatives.  They remind me of smiles, laughs, and the thrill of being at grandma’s for Christmas.


Which is why I’m packing them and sending her a tin of cookies and cocoa this year.  It’s alright that I didn’t share them with others at our club meeting.  It’s okay that I’ve stuffed myself with memories sprinkled in sugar.  It’s all okay because in the end, it’s my grandmother who’ll open a box full of Christmas.

(And The Fault in Our Stars?  It has a permanent spot on our bookshelf.)

Author: iscribbler

A girl scribbling her way through health, love, food and life.

2 thoughts on “A Box Full of Christmas

  1. My memories of Christmas also involve my grandmother baking cookies and fudge. She would mail her delectable desserts to relatives who couldn’t join her for Christmas and the ‘local’ family got the rest. My grandma has been gone almost 12 years now but her memory will never leave my mind and in many ways she’ll always be a part of my Christmas’. I’d like to think that I’d be doing what you’re doing-sending her cookies when she no longer bakes. Thank you for your well written article.

    • Our loved ones live on through our memories and through the things that evoke them. Your grandmother sounded like a wonderful woman and I’m sure everyone thinks of her when they see a collection of baked goods. I know I think of mine every time I see or bake a snickerdoodle. 🙂 Thank you for such a thoughtful and nice reply.

Please Leave a Scribble

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s